


And the Room Spins

by DameOfNoDelicacy



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff, Boys Kissing, But mostly angst, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, also mild shades of, birthday fic, happy birthday gojyo!, i'm soryyyyyy, one of these days i will write a fic where i don't beat him up like crazy i swear, poor Gojyo, yes yes it's angsty for a birthday fic i know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-08 23:42:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12875565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DameOfNoDelicacy/pseuds/DameOfNoDelicacy
Summary: Gojyo hasn’t celebrated his birthday in a long, long time.In fact, Gojyo sometimes forgets about his own birthday - but this year, his new roommate remembers.





	And the Room Spins

**Author's Note:**

> It's probably worth noting that this piece (like Hakkai’s birthday fic, which is *sort of* a companion piece, and which you can read [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12153192), if you'd like!) is intended to take place during the very first year that Hakkai and Gojyo live together. They don’t know each other very well - and, at this point, I don’t imagine Hakkai knows much about Gojyo’s past.
> 
> Thanks, everyone! Enjoy!

He tries to be as quiet as possible when he slips inside, but as ever, the door creaks when he opens it -  _I really gotta get that fixed one of these days,_ he thinks - and his footfalls are heavier than he intends them to be. He teeters sideways, and his shoulder slams into the wall, and he bites his tongue as he does his best to stifle a grunt of pain. “Stupid wall,” he mutters, righting himself. He manages to walk forward in what could generously be called straight line, and he’s pretty proud of himself, all things considered; he has a good half-dozen drinks, a hit or two of a funky-smelling herbal cigarette, and the fact that he’s been awake for a solid eighteen hours working against him.

Also, it’s dark.

Gojyo takes two more steps forward.

Then, he squints.

Then, he frowns.

Maybe it’s just his dry, tired eyes playing tricks on him, but it looks to Gojyo like it’s not as dark as it should be.

He rounds the corner into the kitchen, and for a split second, he finds himself borderline blinded. A lively, warm glow of light flickers cheerily from the middle of his kitchen table, and Gojyo, having trudged home in the nighttime darkness, finds himself very ill-equipped to deal with this bright and startling turn of events. He squeezes his eyes shut, and he throws up a hand in front of his face, and he spits a swearword out from between his clenched teeth.

“Well,” says a voice. “That’s not quite the reaction I was hoping for.”

Slowly, Gojyo lowers his arm and pries his eyes open. He blinks, feeling remarkably sluggish and stupid, and after a few tense heartbeats, the image of Hakkai, seated at the table and bearing a pryingly pitiable look on his placid face, comes into focus.

“Uh,” Gojyo says.

At that, the expression on Hakkai’s face melts into a gentle smile. “A few too many celebratory drinks this evening, Gojyo?” he says lightly.

For the second time in the space of a minute, Gojyo frowns. “Celebratory?” he asks. “What the hell is there for me to be celebrating?”

For a moment, Hakkai almost looks hurt. To his credit, he recovers quickly - but not so quickly that Gojyo misses it altogether. “You can’t be serious,” Hakkai says, his voice quiet and small.

“Serious as a goddamn heart attack, dude. What is it, huh? What?” On a whim, Gojyo slips his hands into his pockets, and he waggles his eyebrows, and he saunters forward two steps, the way he would if he was putting the moves on a pretty girl. “Did I forget our anniversary or something?”

Hakkai stares at Gojyo and blinks those kooky, green eyes of his. “…ah,” he says, after a brief moment. “No, Gojyo. No. You forgot something else, actually.”

“Somethin’ else?”

“Yes.”

“That doesn’t sound like me.”

“Well. Perhaps not, but - “

“I don’t forget important stuff, Hakkai,” Gojyo says, crossing his arms in front of his chest and sticking out his bottom lip. “Small stuff, maybe, but not important stuff.”

“Is that so?” Hakkai asks softly.

“Damn right it’s so.”

A ghost of that wan smile crosses Hakkai’s lips again. “I suppose it shouldn’t come as a great shock to me that you don’t consider today to be terribly important. Still,” he adds, “I can’t help but think it’s a shame.” He pauses, and he opens his mouth again as if to speak, but he closes it after a split second. He glances downwards, not meeting Gojyo’s eyes. “You’re a good man, Gojyo,” Hakkai says. “Better than you realize, I think.”

All of a sudden, Gojyo finds it weirdly hard to draw a steady breath. He feels kinda dizzy, too, so he takes another couple steps forward, and then slides a second chair out from the table, and he plops down into it. “Uh,” he says again. “I mean - uh. I ain’t gonna fight you on that, I guess, but - I mean, I - ”

Abruptly, one of Hakkai’s pale hands shoots forward and shoves something across the table, in Gojyo’s general direction.

“This is for you,” Hakkai says.

It takes Gojyo’s drunk, stoned, and downright exhausted brain a long moment to process what happened. The light in the tiny kitchen flickers oddly, almost as if -

Gojyo almost smacks himself in the forehead for being such a big, dumb idiot.

For the first time, he notices that there’s a cake on the table.

A cake, with a neat, even circle of candles stuck in it around the edge.

A birthday cake.

Gojyo swallows, hard. His gaze is pinned to the cake, which inexplicably pitches and swims in his field of vision. He’s aware of a hot pricking behind his eyes, and he’s pretty sure his hands would be trembling if he didn’t have them pressed hard to his thighs beneath the table.

“I suppose I thought it would be nice,” comes Hakkai’s voice, from what seems to Gojyo like very far away.

“Nice,” Gojyo echoes.

“Yes.”

“Nice.”

“Yes. Yes, I - yes.”

Gojyo glances up, and sees Hakkai peering at him through those thick eyelashes, that thick mane of dark hair, and those thick panes of glass in front of his eyes. “Today’s my birthday,” he says dumbly.

“Yes, Gojyo.”

“You remembered.”

“Yes, Gojyo.”

“I freakin’ forgot my own birthday, and you remembered.”

“That - that seems to be the case, Gojyo. Yes.”

“Shit.” Gojyo sinks back in his chair, suddenly drained. “No one,” he says, his voice weak and wobbly, “has wished me a happy birthday in years.” He flicks his eyes back to Hakkai, whose face looks drawn and strangely craggy, thanks to the flickering candlelight.

“Years?” Hakkai whispers, the question shot through with disbelief.

“Yeah.”

“How many years?”

“Dunno. Loads.” Gojyo can hear his own voice tightening with emotion - and that, he decides without hesitation, is his cue to exit. “Just - uh. Yeah. I’m not so sure eating cake is the best thing for me right now, so. Uh - ” Gojyo rises  - 

And the room spins.

Gojyo keeps his footing, but only barely. He favors Hakkai with a cloying smile as he takes a few unsteady steps, and he does his best to ignore the way the kitchen swirls around him. “Uh,” he continues, still backing away from the table. “Uh. Yeah, I - I’m gonna go to bed - ”

“Can I get you anything?”

“Nah. S’okay, M’fine.”

“Water, perhaps?” Hakkai rises too, looking at Gojyo with what appears to be mounting - and unwarranted, by Gojyo’s recknoning - concern. “I also have painkillers,” Hakkai says quickly. “Even a few which can be taken while under the influence of - ”

“No, no. Don’t worry ‘bout it. I said, I’m -”

The next thing Gojyo knows, he’s pitching sideways and downwards. He swings his arms out wide, and one of his heavy hands makes contact with something that feels like a sturdy, solid, flesh-and-blood body. He makes a fist, clutching for all he’s worth at what he’s pretty sure is the baggy fabric of a knit sweater, and awkwardly shuffling his feet around, frantically trying to regain his balance. He feels a pair of strong hands hoisting him upwards from under his armpits, urging him forward and offering him just the crutch he needs.

For the first time since he crashed through the door of his house, stillness reigns.

Involuntarily, Gojyo sways, shell-shocked and stagnant, locked in this bizarre, lopsided embrace, shifting from foot to foot to keep himself from toppling over again. His head suddenly feels ludicrously heavy, and so Gojyo lets it drop. It rests on what feels like a bony shoulder - which, given the circumstances, is just fine by Gojyo. Somehow, he can’t find it within himself to be too picky at the moment.

“I,” he concludes lamely, slurring his dogged words and shutting his weary eyes, “am  _fine_.”

Hakkai’s faint laughter vibrates through Gojyo’s pent-up palms, and travels all the way up his arms. “Of course you are, Gojyo,” Hakkai says. “You’re fine.” Gojyo feels gentle fingers working in his greasy hair. That’s something else, he reflects vaguely, that hasn’t happened in years - though, to be totally fair, that’s because he almost never allows it to happen. It usually pisses him off when people touch his hair - he always makes it clear to the chicks he screws that his hair is off-limits, because he’ll be damned before he allows himself to be reduced to a real, living, breathing version of some bitch’s stupid, half-youkai sex fantasy - but this, somehow, is different.  This, somehow, is all right.

“You’re fine,” Hakkai murmurs again. “You’re just fine.”

“I  _am,_ though,” Gojyo murmurs back.

“I know.”

“I mean it.”

“I know.”

With an effort, Gojyo lifts his head. He blinks blearily, doing his damnedest to actually meet Hakkai’s eyes. “Thanks for the cake,” he mumbles. “Means a lot. I mean that too, ’kay?”

A tiny smile flickers across Hakkai’s face. “You’re welcome,” he says. “It’s the least I could do.”

“Sorry I didn’t eat any.”

“That’s just fine.”

“It’s, like - a  _little_ shitty, though.”

“The cake will keep overnight. We can eat it tomorrow. It’s just fine, Gojyo. I promise.”

“You promise, huh?”

“Yes. I promise.” Hakkai squeezes Gojyo’s shoulder. “And - do you know what? I’ll make you another promise, Gojyo.”

“Another one, huh?”

“Yes.” Hakkai is still smiling - but somehow, it seems to Gojyo, it’s become a very serious smile. “I promise you,” Hakkai says, “if it is in my power, I’ll take care to ensure that you never spend a birthday without good wishes ever again.”

And Gojyo laughs.

Hakkai’s smile freezes on his face. That weird, frozen look should scare Gojyo - he’s damn sure it should - but as things stand, all Gojyo can do is laugh, and laugh, and laugh. When he finally catches his breath, he offers Hakkai the most apologetic look he can muster. “You,” he says shakily, “talk real old-fashioned sometimes. Y’know that?”

Hakkai says nothing. His green eyes, clear and clever but strangely veiled for all that, dart back and forth rapidly across Gojyo’s face.

 _Shit,_ Gojyo thinks.

He’s fucked up.

Again.

Gojyo draws a breath, and then lets out a long, quivering sigh. “I’m sorry,” he says thickly. “I’m sorry, Hakkai. You were trying to do something nice, and I shat all over it. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad or nothin’, I’m just - I mean, I’m not used to - I  _mean -_ “

Hakkai shakes his head. “Hush, Gojyo,” he says. “You should sleep. You’re tired, and you should sleep.”

“I just - I don’t know how I can let you know that I - I  _mean,_ I appreciate this, I  _really_  - ”

“I know. I know you do, Gojyo. It’s all right.”

“It’s - it’s  _not_ , though, because I - ”

“ _Hush_ , Gojyo - ”

“ _No,_ I… I mean, Hakkai, I… ”

He’s not sure what makes him do it. Maybe it’s his ridiculous desperation. Maybe it’s the wounded look on Hakkai’s face, and maybe it’s the drugs-and-booze cocktail pumping through his veins and lighting his frayed feelings on fire, and maybe it has to do with the fact that no one taught him the right way to say “thank you” when he was growing up, not  _really_ \- but, for whatever reason, in that moment, the very best thing that Gojyo can think to do is to reach up, take Hakkai’s head in his hands, lean forward, and give his roommate the most honest kiss he’s ever given anyone in his life -

And the room spins.

It doesn’t last very long - or, that’s how it feels to Gojyo, anyway. He pulls away, and he releases the breath he didn’t realize he was holding, and he looks Hakkai dead in the face. Hakkai’s expression has done a complete one-eighty - he looks straight-up stunned now, and maybe it’s just a trick of the flickering light, but Gojyo could swear that his roommate is blushing.

“Uh,” Gojyo says, choosing to extract himself from the situation before anything else stupid happens, and speaking with a voice that feels way, way too loud for the small kitchen. “Uh. I’m going to bed now. I’ll see you in the morning, Hakkai.” And he turns on his heel as gracefully as he can - which isn’t very gracefully at all, but it gets Gojyo pointed in the right direction to traipse towards his bedroom.

Just before he makes it to the bedroom door, he hears Hakkai calling from behind him. “Good night, Gojyo,” Hakkai says. “And - happy birthday.”

“Thanks,” Gojyo calls back. As he tosses the word over his shoulder, he decides, last-minute, that it would be swell to end the evening by flashing Hakkai one last, charming smile. He whips his head sideways -

And the room spins.

His feet get all tangled, and his knees hit the floor, and his head hits the ground, and his stomach churns, and his mouth opens wide, and he lets out another peal of ridiculous laughter. He hears footsteps thudding across the linoleum and feels the warmth and comfort of those steady, slender hands again, and this time, Gojyo just lets it all happen. “I owe ya another one, Hakkai,” Gojyo says weakly as his eyes slide closed. He’s beat, and he’s overwhelmed, but he feels kinda fuzzy, too - fuzzy with something almost,  _almost,_ like some wacky-ass strain of happiness.

“Hush,” comes Hakkai’s voice, so faint that Gojyo can barely hear him. “Hush, Gojyo - ”

Gojyo lets another sick laugh slip through his smiling lips before he allows himself to fade into the darkness.

“Happy birthday to me,” he says.


End file.
